Dear Sunshine
by Child of Ragnarok
Summary: In which the worst very nearly comes to pass, and both MC and Sayori are left to do some soul searching. Rated T for safety. Fix fic.


**Disclaimer:** _Doki Doki Literature Club!_ and all of its related characters and concepts belong to Dan Salvato. This is a fanwork that is not intended to monetize in any way. Please support the official release.

 **MAJOR SPOILERS** **for** ** _Doki Doki Literature Club!_** **ahead. You have been warned.**

* * *

 **DEAR SUNSHINE**

 _Worthless. Weak. Waste of space and air._ Sayori screws her face up in pain as she weakly tries to resist those words, to not let them get to her. But it's no use. Whatever mental walls she had, the never-ending rainclouds have eroded them for years.

 _Of course he doesn't love me._ _Why would he? I saw how Yuri was just about to rub her "bad posture"_ _all over him. Did he look like he was going to say no to some of_ that?

Sayori sobs into her pillow as she remembers the scene that was playing out as she was approaching. Yuri was standing close to Anon - too close - and when Anon turned around to greet Sayori, both he and Yuri were blushing a furious red.

 _And I ruined it,_ the rainclouds point out. _Of course I did, because I'm selfish. That's all I am. What happened earlier was exactly what I meant to happen, and when push came to shove, I just couldn't bear seeing him with someone else._

 _And what could I offer him anyway?_ She has no answer to that, but merely sobs even harder, drenching her pillow in tears. It's true. She knows it's true. Yuri has the figure and brains to back it up. Every guy in school would jump at Yuri if given the opportunity, so why would _he_ be an exception? What could he possibly see in plain old Sayori? Sayori, who just keeps holding him down because she's too scared - too weak, even - to cope without him? Whom he had even left behind for a while - until she had dragged him back into her life by getting him to join the Literature Club?

 _Look at me. I'm crying my heart out because my best friend doesn't love me like I love him. I really am pathetic. U_ _seless. Weak. Waste of space._

 _He would be better off without me. They all would._

Too tired to cry any longer, Sayori numbly gets out of bed and ambles down to the garage. She rummages about for a short while until finally finding what she's looking for. She runs her hand along the coarse length of rope and feels a strange sense of calm.

The rope slung over her shoulder, she walks back up to her room. Almost unthinkingly she ties the rope into what she thinks should be a passable hangman's noose. She climbs onto her desk chair and ties the other end of the rope around the ceiling beam.

Looking up at the noose, that sense of calm overwhelms her again. The thought of doing this has crossed her mind before, but she hadn't really allowed the thought to take root. But now? It feels _right._

She draws a deep breath. Better to get this over with quick. Slipping the noose over her head, she feels it catch on her ever-present bow, and some stray hairs tangle onto the rope. Eventually, the noose reaches its destination, and she draws it securely around her neck, feeling the coarse fibers scratch her jaw.

She draws a shuddering breath. A last vestige of doubt. _Can I really do this to him?_

 _Don't be silly,_ her inner voice sneers. _I'm not doing this_ to _him - I'm doing this_ for _him._

She steels her resolve. They would be better off without her. He would be. He'd understand. Maybe he'll hurt for a while, but he has Yuri now. He doesn't need her anymore. The least she can do is excuse herself from his presence - to cut herself loose, permanently.

She dimly wishes she could have said goodbye to her parents, but they aren't due home for another two days. Another one of their business trips. Should she leave a note? Eventually, she decides against it. She doesn't want to put this off any longer.

She draws one more breath and feels a tear slip down her cheek. It's time.

Before she can change her mind, she shuts her eyes and steps forward off the chair, knocking it over in the process.

The fall can't be long - a foot at best - and yet it seems to last forever. She feels a vague sense of freedom - she won't be a burden on anyone any longer. Not her parents, not the Literature Club... not him. He'll be free of her.

Then another thought shows up, uninvited. _He'll be worried when I won't come to school tomorrow, because that's just who he is. He'll come here to wake me up for the festival tomorrow. And this is what he'll find. And he'll blame himself. I know he will. He'll carry the guilt with him until he dies, despite the fact that this is better for him._

Sayori's eyes snap open. _No. No! I can't do this to him!_

Not a millisecond after the realization hits her what a terrible mistake she has just made, the fall ends and the rope snaps taut.

Mercilessly, she doesn't fall unconscious instantly. The pain is unimaginable - the fires of hell itself are lapping at her throat and jawline which are carrying her weight- and she can't believe her head wasn't ripped clean off her shoulders. Flashing lights and little shadows are eating at the corner of her eyes.

She fights. She desperately claws at the rope, only managing to rip the flesh around the noose, intensifying the pain. Soon, her fingers are too bloody to get a proper grip on the rope. She can feel her pajamas slipping off her shoulder in the struggle.

 _Help me... I... I don't want this... not anymore...!_

She tries to reach her feet out to stand on the toppled chair, but no matter how far she reaches out, it's tantalizingly just out of reach.

 _I... I don't want to die anymore...!_

She tries to call for help, even though the rapidly diminishing rational part of her brain knows there's nobody there to listen, but she can't get anything out other than gasping, gagging noises.

 _Please...! Help! I'm scared... help..._

Every inch of her body screaming for oxygen, she's starting to feel lightheaded. She can't hold on for much longer - the shadows are beginning to swallow her field of vision and the whole world is going black and white. Her arms, still vainly grasping at the noose, are growing devilishly heavy.

 _I'm sorry..._ She forces the thought out of her aching brain. _I love you._

She feels herself slipping. The sensation is nearly physical - as if she's somehow dropped a bit further. What's going on here?

And then the hitch affixing the rope to the ceiling beam gives out and she crashes to the floor.

The pain instantly diminishes to near nothing as the weight is taken off the noose. With trembling hands, Sayori quickly undoes the noose and pulls it off of her. She draws a shaky breath through a windpipe that feels like it's been crushed down to the size of a straw, and instantly falls into a coughing fit. With each successive breath, she feels life return to her body. And with it comes a wave of incredible relief.

Sayori spends a few minutes merely sobbing before shakily getting on her feet. She reaches for her cell phone; it says that it's 5:30 AM. She draws a deep breath and hits the dial button, waiting for him to pick up. It's a lot earlier than he wakes up, and she doesn't really want to be an inconvenience to him. But... given the circumstances, maybe it's okay to inconvenience him. Just this once.

She doesn't know how many signals pass until someone picks up. _"Do you even know what time it is?"_ a very grumpy voice says on the other end.

Wincing slightly at his tone, she tries to choke out something, but she's still crying and her windpipe feels tiny. "A-Anon... I..." She begins coughing again.

His tone instantly changes. _"Um... Sayori? Are you crying? Is something wrong?"_

"I... I..." It's hard to force the words past the sobs, the hiccups and the burning throat. "I... I tried to..."

 _"You tried to what?"_ She hasn't heard him this concerned since... well, ever, she supposes.

With a very small voice, she manages to complete the sentence. "I... I tried to kill myself, Anon."

A brief silence. _"I'll be right there."_

A click, and a long beep, and the line goes dead.

 **-oOoOo-**

The last hints of sleepiness are banished from his mind when Sayori says those words.

 _"I... I tried to kill myself, Anon."_

His blood runs cold. "I'll be right there."

He hangs up and steps out of his bed, his mind racing. _She tried to kill herself._ Those words echo in his mind as he numbly puts on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. _She tried to kill herself._

The memories from the previous day return with a vengeance. She had told him about her depression, which she had apparently been having her entire life, and he had never even suspected a thing. And then she had seen him with Yuri. _Oh, goodness, what happened there?_ he thinks. _I... that happened way too quickly. And how did that look to her..._ He feels sick to his stomach. And then, of course, her desperate confession. Of course, since she had repeatedly said that she only wanted everything to be as it used to, he had figured that he would probably be of more help as a friend than a boyfriend - and she had fallen to her knees and _screamed._ The mere memory of that sound, of pure heartbreak given voice, still gives him chills.

 _She tried to kill herself._ Was it his fault? Why didn't he go after her, to make sure she wasn't alone with her thoughts?

 _She tried to kill herself._ He could have lost his best friend - he could have lost someone he loved - all because of his stupidity.

He leaves his house, crosses the street and steps onto Sayori's front yard. Thankfully, she never locks the front door when her parents aren't home.

"Sayori?" he softly calls out.

"In my room." Her voice is definnitely not as strong as usual, and it sounds rough and ragged. As if she's been crying since she talked to him.

The house must somehow be extending itself as he's walking through the hallway and up to her bedroom, because it feels like the walk takes forever, but eventually he's outside of her room. He's been here a million times, but now he feels more than just a little uneasy.

He knocks before gently opening the door. "Sayo-"

He doesn't make it until the end of that sentence before his childhood friend tackle-hugs him and nearly knocks him to the ground as she sobs into his shoulder and mumbles something.

"Anon... thank goodness... tried to... hang myself... almost died, but... rope came loose from ceiling... so happy you're here..."

He holds on to her, strokes her sweat-matted hair, rubs her back. His eyes are involuntarily drawn to the discarded, bloody noose on the floor, and he feels horrified at what must have almost happened. She could have died - she _would_ have died, if not for a lucky fluke - and he would have had no idea.

After what seems like an eternity, she pulls back from him and looks up at him, enabling him to get a good look at her. She's... a mess, to put it mildly. Her face is a lot paler than he is comfortable with, and her big, blue eyes are bloodshot and full of tears. Her mascara is painting black streaks down her cheeks - whether from tears or sweat, he can't really tell - and her neck is just a big mess of bruises, scabs and blood. And he can't help but think she has never been more beautiful.

She sits down on the bed, and he joins her. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he leans his head against hers and puts his arm around her shoulder.

They are silent for a while, cuddled up together, until he can no longer hold his question in. "Sayori... why?"

She tenses, but doesn't seem to shy away from the question. "After I went inside last night..." He winces a little at the memory of what led up to her running inside. "... I wanted to sleep. Remember that I told you that I spend so much of my time sleeping? It helps me cope with... the rainclouds." She smiles sadly. "But I just couldn't. Everything I've ever done wrong kept repeating itself in my head and every bad thought I've ever had came back. I was so tired and I just... I couldn't continue any longer."

He squeezes her a little tighter.

"It wasn't really a conscious decision. I found the rope, and I... well, let's just say that if it hadn't been for my klutziness, we probably wouldn't be talking like this. Ehehe~"

"That's not funny, Sayori!" He looks at her, unsure of what to feel. Concern? Anger? Relief? Disgust with himself? All four at once?

"Sorry." He sees her wince and hears the dejection in her voice, and he is sickened by his reaction. The last thing Sayori needs right now is for him to lash out at her.

He sighs. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I... I really didn't handle your depression anything like I was supposed to, did I? It's just... depression is something that's not supposed to happen to those you care about. I just... I don't think I knew how to handle it." He winces at how he had reacted to her telling him, voicing his sense of _betrayal_ of all things - as if it was about him. "I'm sorry, Sayori. This is all my fault, isn't it?"

"No!" He's surprised at her fierce tone as she whips around to face him. She grabs his hand and he tries to hide the flutter in his stomach as she does. "It's not your fault at all! How were you supposed to know? You did exactly what I wanted you to."

"Well, apart from one thing." He swallows, and rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. "Your confession yesterday..."

"Oh. Ehehe~" She rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "I... I'm sorry about that. It's just... you and Yuri seemed to have such a nice time, and I... I don't know... weren't you about to...?"

"Sayori." Something in his voice makes her stop talking. "Nothing against Yuri, she's pretty terrific - although that book she had me reading gives me the heebie-jeebies." Sayori giggles at that. "I think she just got a little excited and things got awkward after that. I don't see her in that way."

"Really?" Sayori doesn't have to feign her surprise, but she does have to fight down the little flutter of hope.

He smiles at her, which soon disappears as he struggles with his words. "It's just... I haven't known her before now. And yes, she's really nice, and pretty, and she's a terrific friend - but that's all I see her as. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier."

He laughs awkwardly while rubbing his neck. "Ahaha. I may have given you another wrong impression too. You see, when you confessed..." He stops rubbing his neck and puts his other hand on Sayori's. He can _hear_ her breath hitch. "I was actually really happy, because... well, the thing is... well, you know... I feel the same."

Sayori looks at him in surprise, but the healthy glow on her cheeks and the spark in her eyes betrays her happiness. Then she looks wistfully at the floor. "If you do, why did you turn me down?"

"Because..." He sighs, bracing himself for awkwardness. "You told me you wanted everything to go back to as it always had been, and I thought... with your depression and all... that I'd give you that. You have no idea how much it hurt me to tell you that, but I honestly thought it was best. And then you screamed like that, and you sounded like you were in so much pain, and it felt like my heart was going to split in half... then you ran off into your house and I was just standing around outside like a moron rather than try to sort this out right away."

"Oh, Anon." There's a gentleness to Sayori's voice as she pulls him into a hug. "I... I think we've both messed up."

"I'd have to agree with that." He strokes her hair softly, absentmindedly fiddling a little with the bow in her hair, before pulling back.

"So... can I try that again?" He smiles at her.

She smiles back. "Well, since you're asking so nicely..."

"Alright then." He takes her hand again and looks her in the eye. "Sayori... I love you."

Even with the preparation beforehand, she gives a little gasp and lights up in a way that he has never seen before - and which he will work tirelessly to make sure she will continue to do. "And I love you, Anon. M-more than anything."

He looks deep into her eyes, and for the first time since yesterday, he sees hope. He knows it's not the end. He knows she'll have a long way ahead of her to conquer this depression, but he knows she will come through. He will be there every step of the way for her, holding her as she cries and maybe tethering her to the present if she ever decides to pull something similar again. But he will gladly do that if it means she can be happy.

He wipes a tear from her cheek and she blushes, leaning into his touch. This tear appears to be a happy tear, and more seem to be coming. He will do his utmost to turn them all into happy tears from now on.

They gaze into each other's eyes for a moment longer, and then, nearly simultaneously, they close the distance between them and let their lips meet.

* * *

 **A personal plea from the author:**

Depression is no joke. It's a real and serious mental illness that can affect anybody.

If you are, or suspect you are, suffering from depression and/or suicidal ideation, I beg you to reach out to someone you can trust, right away. A friend, a family member, or a mental health care professional.

You are not weird for having depression, and you are not weak.

There is help. There is hope.

You are not alone.

 _You are worth saving._

 **Thanks for reading.**


End file.
